Unexpected
by Sherlock-in-the-TARDIS
Summary: Jim Moriarty didn't intend to fall in love, he had just wanted to have some fun and maybe get some dirt on Sherlock Holmes, but sometimes even a criminal mastermind can't get everything right.  Bumped rating up just in case I add some...other stuff later
1. Riding crop

Jim Moriarty smiled, drumming his fingers on a desk in the morgue. In Jim's left hand was the riding crop that Sherlock had –yet again- forgotten. Any minute now Sherlock would remember and come down again to retrieve it. Jim twirled the riding crop in his fingers, waiting calmly for the consulting detective. A smile crept to Jim's face at the sound of feet descending the stairs, but it melted away soon after. Sherlock's energy filled way of walking down stairs was far different than the rhythm Jim was hearing now. But before the criminal mastermind had time to react the door had been pushed open

"Now… where did Sherlock say he had put his riding crop?" The man asked himself, facing away from Moriarty. _Where indeed? _Jim thought to himself, a new plan forming in his mind. The gray haired man turned just as the expression on Jim's face turned from malice to innocence." Oh! I didn't see you there!" the man's dark eyes showed surprise.

"Oh, it's quite all right. Is this what you were looking for?" Jim asked, holding up the riding crop with a sweet smile.

"Yes, thank you" the man took the riding crop and smiled warmly at Jim "Greg Lestrade, by the way"

"Nice to meet you Greg, I'm Jim"


	2. My ride

AN: Sorry for the short chapter, time it took to get the chapter out, and lack of anything happening in this chapter. I feel the need to be realistic and have a relationship actually build, so there might be a lot of boring chapter in the near future.

Greg Lestrade stepped out of the yard into ever-busy London, nearly knocking over a restless seeming Jim.

"Sorry…" Greg apologized, steading Jim with one hand

"It's fine, oh! Greg, right?"

"Yea… are you alright?" Greg asked, Jim was bouncing on his heels and repetitively checking his watch

"Oh, that, yea. Just waiting for my ride..." Jim smiled feebly before looking down the street again.

"Late?"

"Just a little…but yea..."  
>"Want a ride?" Jim's dark eyes lit up<p>

"Really? Yea, thanks" Lestrade smiled at Jim's attempts to curb his happiness. Greg led him over to his 1999 Toyota Prius and motioned for Jim to get in. Sliding into the driver's seat, Greg saw that Jim was already seated and ready to go, his fingers drumming on his leg calmly. Greg put the key into the ignition, twisted, and started the car.


	3. Drinks

Jim smiled to himself, manipulating the Detective inspector was ridiculously easy. Easier than Sherlock, maybe even easier than Molly. Greg was completely oblivious to the fact that a criminal mastermind was in his passenger seat, and Jim found that fairly amusing.

"Oh, here!" the car pulled to a stop in front of a fairly nice building. Jim stepped out and turned around, "thanks again." He said before shutting the door and starting to walk off.

"Wait!" Lestrade called out the open window. Jim's smile was murderous in the moment before he turned around.

"Yea?"

"I was wondering…If you'd wanna get a pint sometime…"

"Oh! Yes! Of course!" Jim fumbled around 'looking' for a pen and piece of paper (that he knew the exact location of). Jim scribbled a ten digit number on it and gave it to Greg, "Call me at a good time."

As the Detective drove off, the smile returned to Moriarty's face. The evil, scheming, malicious smile. Jim spun on his heels and stared walking away. As if he would ever let a Detective inspector know his address. As Jim strolled off, he just missed tripping over an umbrella. He also missed the auburn hair and knowing smile of Mycroft Holmes


	4. Twenty minutes

Greg stared at the stray peice of paper with ten messy numbers scribbled on in a hurry. Lestrade was bored, thirst, and a little bit lonely. But he wasn't sure that calling Jim was the best a minute or so he picked up his phone and dialed a number he had read about fifty times.

"Hello?" Greg recognised Jim's voice, but the tone was different. More confident an cinical.

"...Jim?"

"Oh! Greg, Hi." His voice returned to normal almost instantly, and this puzzed Lestrade, but he brushed it off, dismissing it as his mind looking for reasons to not do what he was about to.

"I was wondering...About the drinks...:

"Oh, yea, sure. Where do you want to meet up?"

"Theres this little pub, not far from your flat"

"I know which one your talking about, so we'll meet there in... Twenty minutes?"

"That sounds good"

"Great"

"See you then" There was a moment of silence after that, not an uncomfortable silence, just a relaxed silence. It ended to quickly for Greg's taste but he shrugged it off and set his phone down. Twenty minutes.


	5. Dearest readers,

Hi. Yes, no chapter this time. Because I'm going to stop this fic. SORRY, but I feel like I've lost the Jim and Greg in my insane world of ship.I'm really sorry, but I have a lot of other stories to continue, and I persist to make more as time goes by. This fic would have faded into oblivion anywho. I still ship the ship, but I no longer write the fic.

My fondest wishes,

Sherlock-in-the-TARDIS


End file.
